A Student to Experience
by DancingInStars
Summary: 'Experience' can be a rough teacher. When it decides to chuck in a jackhammer, two lovable detectives, a frantic Captain and a rapidly freezing reporter in minus 40 degrees temperature in the middle of nowhere... then it might just be considered mental.


_First ever Tintin based drabble/fanfic. Made for the 100 themed writer's challenge on dA. The prompt was: _**55. Separation**_. Go easy on me, pretty please? ^^_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters stated anywhere in here. Which saddens me._

OIOIOIOI

The thing having lost count of time spent hunted, threatened, captured, kidnapped and imprisoned abroad had –although rather involuntarily- made Tintin realize something; the term 'panic' is merely a mental state, a sheer train of thought that one would tend to succumb to when the situation is dire.

Perhaps it's plainly a well honed sense of familiarity to these types of situations, but experience, it seems, has taught Tintin that what could easily pass of as a dire situation to one man, could easily be flapped off as something extremely insignificant to another.

Both could be considered a blessing and a curse within itself.

Tintin shuddered involuntarily from the chill that crept up his bare legs, snaking its frosty fingers through his already numb limbs and further stinging his calf muscles as he tried to curl his legs inwards, resting his chin against his frosty cold knees. Perhaps opting for a pair of shorts despite the Captain's obstinate protests probably wasn't going to get it into his mental list of ingenuous ideas.

He tried wiggling his toes to keep his blood circulation in check. The response –or lack of- from said body part made his lips tighten to a grimace.

Correction; _definitely_ not making it into his list.

The young reporter shook his head, for a moment willing nothing more than to have Snowy bundled on his lap, his loyal companion's added, albeit slight, body heat would surely be more preferable than the slow yet steady effects of frost bite that was relentlessly nipping at his exposed skin. It felt as though the cold was sinking deep beneath his bones and eating him out from the inside. His gaze, previously riveted on his constantly blueing knees, shifted to his bruised and slightly grazed knuckles.

He doubted that he'd be able to tell the difference between which shade of blue was resulted from pain, and which from cold if the temperature keeps dropping in its swift pace.

The thing about being who he is has taught him that the unexpected is sometimes the most preferable solution.

So when he hears the unmistakable sound of a jackhammer drilling against cement and felt rather than saw a frantic Captain rushing towards him, less than a palpitation behind his anxious beloved Snowy and dimly makes out Thompson and Thomson's familiar figures lodged by their shoulders at the slight opening in the wall after attempting a simultaneous barge inwards to reach him, he could easily say that it was, as expected, ironically, _unexpected_.

Captain Haddock was quick to bundle his slight form in a thick wool blanket, grumbling breathlessly in a way of someone who had just barreled through a vast distance and had merely completed the trip fueled by inconceivable worry, "Tintin... If I were... to get a bottle of whiskey... each time you do this to us... those filthy ectoplasms... blister-"

Tintin managed a weak smile, speaking just as weakly from between chattering teeth, "I t-try not to make it a habit C-C-Captain."

"For the best I presume Tintin, you had us sick with worry!" Thompson called out, having managed to wiggle free from the predicament with his fellow detective and was now standing a few steps behind Captain Haddock, his characteristic black bowler hat coated with a light layer of snow and slighty lopsided atop his head.

"To be précised: You had us worried sick!" came Thomson's expected retort, getting to his knees and brushing away the coating of grime on his palms.

The thing having lost count of time spent hunted, threatened, captured, kidnapped and imprisoned abroad had –although rather _involuntarily_, yet nonetheless _thankfully_- made Tintin realize something; while most of his escapes were merely by the skin of his teeth, it was a reassuring thought to have friends that could pull through for him when the situation rises.

OIOIOIOI

_Constructive criticm would be appreciated ^^ Thanks for reading!_

_- D.I.S_


End file.
